Situation Dark
by Mr Selfish
Summary: A group of young men have awoken on the USS Shield, a massive self sustaining arc that houses what remains of the United States. After undergoing an advanced experiment and going through rigorous training will they be able to take back a world brimming with hollows? I don't think so.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"We knew it was coming, why didn't we do anything about it? We saw all of the signs but we still let everything fall into place and then rip us apart. The government… they couldn't do anything about it. No one could, the Chinese, the Russians, even us. We were dead once we let the situation get out of hand. We ended up nuking ourselves to try to combat the threat, but when the smoke cleared those things were still there! Oh god, all those people... gone within the blink of an eye. No one knows where the plague came from, but it spread fast. It wasn't long before my neighbor Paul disappeared. They found him foaming from the mouth two days later with a little girls head in his hands… the police reports said he went insane. One day our gardener Rodriguez came to work feeling really sick, so I did what any good employer would do and sent the kid home early for the day. He just looked at me, closing his eyes and when they opened they were completely white, like a blanket of snow. He attacked me! My family... oh god Amber, I don't know if I could keep going like this! I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this without you. I'm so sorry!"

The sounds of the man sobbing were interrupted by the single shot of a gun.

The room was silent. Shadows danced behind a set of nine chairs that surrounded a large black table. A tape recorder centered itself like an isolated island underneath a bright lamp hanging off of a ceiling hidden in darkness. The bulb illuminated the room revealing nine young men sitting in the suede seats. The group was unsettled by the tape, and some jumped at the click the player made when the recording ended. Another gentleman, much older than any of the other men revealed himself from the shadows. He stared at each person in the room, locking eyes with every one of them. In some of them he saw fear, in others he saw courage. In some he saw hope, and in others he saw nothing.

"We have declared Situation Dark. Do you gentlemen understand why we do what we do?" asked the man.

"Yes, Admiral Schwartz." the room echoed back.

Admiral Schwartz nodded reassuringly. He ran his hands over the front of his uniform, dusting them off a little and turned towards a now open doorway. Light poured into the room from the other side and as fast as it came, it left. The way to freedom shut and darkness flooded the meeting room again. The group rose in unison and all of the chairs, the table, and any other inanimate object in the room pixilated and disappeared. Soon after the entire room was replaced with a gymnasium. It materialized as fast as everything else disappeared. Outfitted with a track, an assortment of weights and bars, a small fighting ring, punching bags, and even bleachers. The gym had everything. The group fanned out to different areas of the gym and began their training.

Of course there were nine men in total, each with their own unique personality. They wore the same uniform but each had their own specific color, normally their favorite color, which was surprisingly one of the only memories that these men retained after most of their heads were wiped clean by the life changing experiment that put them into this situation. As a result of said experiment, each individual had their own unique weapon which they could summon at any time. Each weapon had its' own abilities, and some of the men could have sworn that their weapons were alive.

The first to awaken, Thomas, had a golden chime. With the flick of his wrist he had the ability to heal any wound, no matter how devastating it was. The second, Varbos, had a small flame that summoned itself into his right hand during moments of anger. The flame grew with his rage and devoured his targets. Third was Omega, nicknamed "The Golem" by his team mates. He had metal greataxe which shared his size that no one on the team could lift, no matter how hard they tried, but he swung the thing around like a butter knife!

The fourth and fifth to awaken were Selfish and Paragon, respectively. Each controlled different elements with different properties. Selfish was able to launch projectiles made of pure energy from a staff that he summoned at will, while Paragon was able to steal life force from living beings with a dark scythe. The two seemed mentally unstable to their companions, and were often found in solitude talking to their weapons.

The next three to awaken, and at the same time, were Souffle, Tokyo, and Blight. Souffle's weapon matched his sharp senses and poisonous personality. He wielded a bloodied sword that everyone stayed away from, even him at times. Tokyo was probably the quietest and relaxed person of the group. His greatsword that he was able to summon seemed to increase his physical capabilities tenfold, acting as a stimulant to his calm personality. Blight was a noble soul, and his weapon illuminated this. He was able to call forth a silver spear that, when swung, seemed to controll the very winds around its' master.

Last, but definitely not least to wake from his slumber was Scraper. He had no weapon, but he needed no weapon. Scraper didn't look like it at all, but he had the strength of Hercules. The group would say that the only thing harder than his punches was his head!

Now this... this was a team! But, what's with the weird names? Well, when the experiment performed by the US government to turn these strapping young men into super soldiers succeeded, it also failed in some aspects. Their memories erased, with the exception of three lucky individuals, the group had lost the majority of their memories. Those lucky three, the first ones to awaken, only retained certain memories. Thomas knew everything that had happened during the experiment, where the group was thrown into the world of Dark Souls itself and left to survive on their own. Omega knew every member's fighting techniques and taught each individual how to use their weapons. Varbos retained his memory of what happened before the experiment, but lost anything that had to do with the actual experiment itself. Essentially, Varbos named everyone based on what he knew of them via a website called "Fan Fiction". The first three to awaken also became the leaders of the group in a way, guiding it to success through hard work and training. This is their story.

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

A thin, dark skinned man with a neatly trimmed beard approached the fighting ring. He wore his azure coverall suit which only had two things that made it different from the other ones; it's color, and the name that it bore across a small patch sewn into the right side of the chest area… which read "Blight". Now in the center of the arena, he breathed deeply and followed up with an assortment of stretches. Sweat began to drip from his brow and his heart started to pound inside of his chest. He held his arms in front of him and a silver spear appeared in his hands. Light danced off of the weapon and further illuminated Blight's surroundings. He spun the spear around his body, slicing through the air and cooling the encircled area. He paused and slammed the butt of his spear on the floor.

"Simulation one, difficulty medium." he barked.

An abnormal group of pixels filled the ring and joined together to form a hollow. It's jaw dropped and let out a groan that sent shivers down Blight's spine. The infected held a rusty knife in his right hand and his white eyes never left his opponents flesh. The beast charged at Blight, but his chest quickly met the tip of his long silver spear. Before the thing could fully vanish, Blight was already speaking.

"Simulation one, difficulty hard." he exclaimed.

The same that happened earlier happened yet again. This time two armored hollows with longswords surrounded Blight. One was a large man with black skin, and the other was a small woman whose bones pierced her flesh. Their metal patches clung with excitement as the two abominations ran at their prey. Blight delivered a swift kick to the smaller hollow and then spun around to face his bigger foe. He dodged a swing of its' weapon and turned around fast enough to impale his weapon through the thing's armor and into its' chest. The hollow flailed its' arms around but eventually dropped its' blade. The smaller infected woman got to her feet and charged at Blight, but he used the corpse that was still hanging off of his spear as a shield and knocked her backwards. Kicking the man off of his weapon, the hollow stumbled into its' other half and the spear-user charged the two, piercing his weapon through both of their necks as they shambled to stand.

Upon completing his warmup, Blight spat to the side as all of the blood and corpses disappeared.

"Simulation eight, difficulty hard." he muttered.

Shapes began to form around Blight and a feminine voice of a computer responded back to him.

"Enemies present: Knight Artorias the Abyss Walker, Lord's blade Ciaran, Dragonslayer Ornstein, Hawkeye Gough. Objective: co-operate with the whole group to eliminate all targets."

Everyone in the room started to gather around Blight to prepare for the simulation, but he motioned for them to go to the bleachers. Hesitantly, they agreed and proceeded, a wall of glass blocking them from helping Blight at all. Inside of the glass box the group casually chatted.

"He's going to get himself killed…" whispered Varbos.

Omega disagreed. "Blight has evolved his weapon beyond even my comprehension."

The fighting ring expanded and changed. The room was completely enveloped in an atmosphere that was alien to the usual 'Gym, Dining Room, Restroom, or Living Room' rodeo. All of the sudden Blight was standing in the Oolacile Township arena. Atop moss covered stone, Blight breathed air that was artificially real. He twirled his spear around him and the wind danced at his command. His opponents surrounded him, each donning a unique appearance. All of his enemies were knights, each covered in armor from head to toe. One wore plated steel and was adorned in an extravagant blue cloth that lined his body. He also carried a greatsword that mimicked the appearance of Tokyo's. Another one of the knights was covered head to toe in gold. His helmet was shaped like a lion's and his armor poked outwards with sharp edges that resembled lightning. He held a spear in his hands that was longer than his body, and equally magnificent. The third knight was a giant. The only thing more impressive than his large muscles or his gladiator styled myrmidon helmet was his large bow, which equalled his already giant size. The last opponent, and perhaps the deadliest, was a woman in dark blue robes. Wearing a gold porcelain mask on her face while wielding two small blades of gold and silver, her very image pointed to that of an assassin.

The wind carried golden leave into the arena and swirled around Blight. Hawkeye Gough held his bow up and knocked an arrow, pointing it at the puny human. Ornstein made a similar action and his spear started to glow with electricity. Ciaran disappeared from sight and Artorias charged Blight. Gough released the arrow and Ornstein rained lightning on his target. Blight spun his spear around his body and the arrow was blown off course by a gust of wind. He then jumped high into the air, watching as the lightning below struck the ground. He saw Artorias leap into the sky to attack him and he thrust his spear towards his foe violently, sending a wave of wind that sent the knight hurling towards the ground. The wind carried Blight towards Gough and he spun in the air with his spear pointed towards the giant. His distorted image took the form of a drill, and a drill he was. He penetrated through Gough's chest, landing perfectly on his knees behind the archer. He turned to observe the damage he had delivered to realize that Gough was now a puddle of red slush.

Ornstein charged at Blight with a speed that matched his own and the two engaged in a duel. Artorias appeared from behind Blight and the man had to stave the two off, parrying attacks and dodging others. Artorias lept at Blight, who saw the opportunity to fly completely under him. A gust of wind surrounded Blight's arm and enveloped his spear. Turning around, Blight launched the spear from his hand. The spear broke the sound barrier and sent it's master flying backwards. Faster than sound could reach them, Artorias had been impaled into Ornstein and their broken bodies hung off of the wall on the opposite of the arena. Blight summoned his spear back into his hands, remembering his fourth opponent. Across the arena he could see the bodies of his slain foes drop off of the wall as the weapon was removed… but no Ciaran. He looked up and met the cold gaze of the assassin's mask as she jumped off of the wall lining the arena. He extended his spear towards her and impaled her through the heart. She had pretty much just given him the win.

The bodies of the knights disappeared and the Hologram Room took the appearance of a gym again. The other men ran to Blight from the bleachers and hoisted him into the air.

"That was amazing!" exclaimed Tokyo.

"And you didn't even get scratched…" added Omega.

Blight smiled at his friends. "I couldn't have done it without you guys… Praise the sun!"

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

Eat, shit, train, and sleep. Eat, shit, train, and sleep. This was what quickly became Varbos' daily routine. Varbos would get out of bed, get dressed in his deep blue coveralls, eat breakfast (and write an outstanding poem whilst feasting), practice some pyromancy, and then go for a brisk jog in the gymnasium. The trainee had completed Simulation nine, difficulty hard in the fighting ring on the second day of training with a fantastic display of pyromancy. For this, he was rewarded with a few scoops of gelato... a break from the constant protein that was being shoved down his throat. Since Varbos didn't have much to do but physically train his body, he talked with the other guys a lot. He was their link to the past, after all.

Today however, was different. This day was going to be one where Varbos had fun! In usual fashion, the poet approached each of his colleagues to chat with them, but this particular time he decided to prod at them, play with the small amount of memories that they actually had. Varbos decided he would avoid Paragon and Selfish… the two craziest people there, but he played with everyone else. When approaching Blight, the man tilted his head to the side and all of Varbos' jokes and taunts went completely un-noticed.

Deciding he would try a little harder, Varbos then approached Thomas. He specifically pointed out the fact that Thomas could only heal others, and couldn't do anything else. Apparently Thomas said something to Omega shortly after, as Varbos received a stern talking to from the man in the green uniform, and then proceeded to turn around revealing the winged unicorn sewn into his back. Varbos didn't know what was funnier, Omega's yelling or Omega's fascination with "My Little Pony". The clever poet then settled upon Tokyo, who actually laughed at all of the Varbos' harmful jokes.

Varbos was quickly getting bored again, he decided to raise the intensity of his insults. He approached Scraper, who was hitting the punching bag as usual but quickly moved on when brawler slammed his right arm into the bag, sending it flying across the room. His sense of urgency hastened when Scraper yelled at him for making him lose focus. The clever trickster approached his last stop, Souffle. As usual, Souffle was having fun with his katana. He would wipe some of the old blood off of it, and watch as it quickly reappeared. Varbos decided to make fun of him for this, which wasn't a good idea. The man in the golden clothing stood up and challenged Varbos to a duel.

Nodding, Varbos casually walked to the fighting ring. No one seemed to pay the situation any mind. Besides Thomas who was the team's medic, the majority continued with their own individual training. The two bowed to each other in the ring. In a show of power, Varbos flashed his pyromancy flame out of his right palm and let the flames crawl up his arm. Souffle merely held his katana in one hand and waited for Varbos to finish showing off. The pyromancer conjured a small ball of flame in his hands and tossed it at Souffle. The swordsman positioned himself like he was about to hit a baseball with a bat, swinging at the spell and watching as it disappeared. Varbos' jaw dropped. Did his fireball just rapidly decay?

The pyromancer smirked. "When did you learn to do that?"

Souffle brushed some ash off of his arm. "Recently… you see… unlike you, I actually train."

The two's conversation was interrupted by Selfish yelling in the distance. "Ah snap, you need some ice for that burn, girl?"

Varbos gritted his teeth together. His pyromancy flame grew in power and Souffle gripped his katana in both of his hands.

"Come!" yelled the swordsman.

The pyromancy held his wrist with his left hand and channeled his rage through his flames. Power quaked from Varbos as the room began to shake and the lights began to flicker. A condensed orb of flame screamed in the mans hand, waiting to be unleashed. He released his arm from his own grip and threw the spell at Souffle, which quickly swelled up to match the size of a car. The flames quickly crawled to the swordsman, who dove to the right as fast as he could, suffering major burns on his legs in the process. He looked to Thomas who was already on his feet, but waved for him to sit back down. Varbos collapsed onto the ground, completely asphyxiated. He coughed and wheezed, spitting out a few drops of blood. As he was distracted, Souffle stood and strode to Varbos. The pyromancer saw this, but he couldn't do anything about it. The swordsman reached his opponent and placed his blade on the pyromancer's shoulder. The area that came into contact with the blade started to decay. Varbos could feel his flesh erase as Souffle kept his blade on his body. The swordsman took a deep breath and his blade vanished. He knelt down and helped Varbos to his feet, walking him to Thomas.

"Good duel." stated Souffle.

Too weak and ashamed to talk, Varbos simply nodded. His hatred seethed within his veins. The next time he fought someone, he would be prepared.

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

Thomas ran around the track, preparing for his role in the journey to come. He figured that he really only needed to be able to get around the battlefield and be able to take care of himself, since all he had to do was heal his allies. His spells put some strain on his body, but what little was placed on him was simply cured a few seconds later by his own magic, and because of this Thomas could achieve a lot of cool things.

Thomas was able to run the farthest in the group because he could simply channel extra energy into his muscles and make them last longer, he could easily run one hundred miles without breaking a sweat. He didn't have to eat, a single ring of his bell and his body would feel full and refreshed… though he ate with his friends because he enjoyed the company. Last but not least, Thomas eventually developed the ability to subconsciously recover his own wounds.

He once got into a "training accident" with Selfish, who "accidentally" launched two magical arrows into his friends stomach, expecting him to heal himself, but the holes were patched up without a single ring of Thomas' magical chime.

Since Thomas also remembered everything that happened during their freakish experiment, he often found himself talking to different members of the group and telling them stories of great or silly deeds that they carried out within the Dark Souls game itself. This was especially useful as a tool to mend the troubled minds of the group members when they started to doubt their situation.

"One time, Selfish and Paragon completely owned a Havelyn, it was amazing!" he said one time to cheer up his friends.

The two broke into laughter and Paragon replied. "I don't even know what that is, but it sounds glorious!"

When the medic wasn't training, he found himself buried in Varbos' poems or other stories. His friend, who could recall his life before all of this craziness, had taken it upon himself to rewrite the work that he remembered. One iconic story, written by an anonymous writer, featured Lautrec as the protagonist of the story, battling through a cycle in order to break it so that he could be with the love of his life. Thomas often wondered what it would be like to meet a girl and settle down… he recalled a dream he had while in the game world, one where he was surrounded by multiple naked women after he had been called "The Chosen Undead". He laughed to himself.

Everyone realized how important Thomas was to the team, and Thomas knew how key he was to the mission. Whenever someone grew too tired to train further, he was their to support them. When two of the men got into a fight he soothed their wounds with his magic and their minds with his words. The team wouldn't have been much of a team without him. There was one incident, and only one, where Thomas lost himself to his emotions.

Scraper was punching away at a bag, completely man handling it, and Thomas could tell something was wrong. He snuck up behind the brawler to give him counsel, and possibly ease his mind a little. Scraper turned to him and punched him in the stomach with full force on accident, not expecting someone like Thomas to approach him so closely… in truth he thought it may have been Varbos playing another one of his tricks. Naturally, this sent Thomas flying across the entire gymnasium. Oddly enough, it was Selfish who ran to help the medic up. He reached for him, but right before he touched Thomas he saw a line of electricity run right over the man's arm. He backed off immediately and told the group what happened, and although Thomas didn't look like his normal happy-go-lucky self, surely he wasn't going to electrocute anyone. He talked to Selfish about it later after receiving a long apology from Scraper and couldn't recount what had happened. Both magicians nodded it off and decided to forget about it.

But it's lingered in Thomas' mind ever since…

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

Paragon. The big guy, Mr. Muscles, Major Douche. He was called a lot of things by the guys, you could probably match each nickname to each wanted to know how to bench press? He was your guy. Squats? No problem. Want someone to spot you? He's there. Paragon was the one stop shop for anything that involved physical fitness. How did he know all of this though? He lost his memory didn't he? Some of the guys said that he walked up to a weight set one day and it all felt natural to him. What his mind didn't remember, his muscles did. Other's (Selfish) described it as follows: 'Major Douche just walked up to the bench press one day and hoisted that mother fucker into the air like it was nobody's business.' The two then got into a fist fight with Paragon taking some minor injuries, but arising as the obvious winner.

Aside from the occasional scraps that Paragon would get into with Selfish every now and then, he was a really nice guy. He provided honest feedback to his fellow team members to help them improve during training sessions and helped them develop new, stronger techniques. He and his magical counterpart didn't see eye to eye very often (even though they were the same height at a whopping five feet eight inches) but they had a deep respect for each other. The two were the only ones to pass the initial fitness exam, which included running two miles in less than twelve minutes, one hundred pushups in a row, one hundred situps, and twenty pull ups.

Normally when Paragon trained he trained alone. He would lift weights in a variety of ways, participate in cardio training, and occasionally he would join Scraper and try to pick up some martial arts. Paragon didn't like calling his scythe out, it wasn't only the creepiest thing ever as it was pitch black, dimmed the light around him, and trails of dark smoke escaped the thing constantly, but it also spoke to him. Sometimes he would be training with it and he would see one of his friends get hurt in an accident. His companion would be laying on the floor and he would hear whispers. "Finish him." or "His soul looks so tasty." were common examples. Being the tough guy that he was, he never shared this information with any of the other guys, except for Selfish, who had a similiar problem.

There was an occasion where Paragon woke up in the middle of the night screaming, his scythe in hand. The next day he continued with his business like nothing happened, going through his daily routine. While everyone was training, he pulled Selfish to the side and they talked about what happened.

"It just… it came to me in a dream man!" he whispered.

Selfish nodded. "What did the fucker say?"

Paragon grimaced. "The usual… kill, feed me their souls… you know. What freaked me out is how it came to me in my sleep…"

"You ever tell it to…you know... shut the hell up?" suggested Selfish.

"Maybe I'll try that next time!" Paragon said with a smile.

The situation where he would be able to put this scenario to practice conveniently came up the same day. He was training as usual and Varbos had just gotten finished getting the shit kicked out of him by Souffle over some stupid prank that he had pulled. Paragon's scythe summoned itself while he was running on the track and spoke to him.

"Come on… just a taste keheheh…" it said.

Paragon stopped and looked at his weapon. "Wanna know what would be cool? If you would just shut the fuck up. Straight up."

The scythe was silent for a few seconds before speaking with a chilling whisper. "I will be patient…"

Sighing, Paragon frowned. He felt a little bad… even if his scythe was crazy… "Hey… what's your name?" He asked.

It sat in his hand for a while, it's black mist dripping to the floor. "Ebonslash, the Night-splitter Necrosis."

"Haha, sounds like a five year old named you!" laughed Paragon.

His weapon was silent for a moment. "YOU named me…"

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

Scraper slammed his fist into the punching bag in front of him, completely tearing it apart. His Blue coveralls were flanked by white cloth wraps surrounding his hands. The admiral had expressed interest in his abilities at one point, asking if he needed extra protection for his knuckles. Scraper simply stated that he could punch a wall and his hands would be completely fine.

"Simulation four, difficulty hard." he whispered.

Another punching bag appeared in front of him, this one made of pure gold. He started to jab at it with his left hand, leaving indentations the size of his fist all over its' surface. After a couple of warm up right hooks he rotated his body backwards and twisted forward, slamming the bag with his right fist and sending it flying backwards. His hands were completely fine.

"Simulation nine, difficulty hard." he said, panting.

The same process occurred, but this time the bag was a much more metallic gray color. This was the hardest material known to man at that time, Scraper was a little confused when he had it explained to him. It was able to "Survive a nuke", as he had been told. This excited the man. It was his personal goal to crack through this, and today would be the day. He had completed all of the fighting simulators in the ring, mastering the final difficulty. But this… this was something else. Feeling that he needed to be a much formidable force on the battlefield, Scraper practiced on this large metal cylinder for hours a day.

Scraper began, thrusting his left and right fists forward, causing the bag to rotate on the hinges of the chain holding it up. With each punch and each twist of his hand he scratched the surface of the object in a way that small bits of metal would fly into random directions like shrapnel. The training got to the point where the sound of Scraper hitting the bag was the only thing that could be heard in the room. Everyone watched in anticipation as the brawler slammed his fists into the object, cheering and cringing with every punch. The man punched away, and got into a rotation where he was punching so fast that he was just a blurred image to everyone else. He didn't realize this, but his fists were glowing red with heat, which escalated with each consecutive punch. Some of the men in the room covered their ears and eyes, like they were in a room with a really bright jackhammer! The chains holding the bag up eventually melted away, causing the bag to fall to the floor. Scraper quickly jumped onto it, continuing his assault. Before he knew it, the object was split in two.

Scraper rose to celebrate and view his work. Metal shavings lined the wall behind the punching bag and a pool of melted ore formed on the floor. He looked at his hands, his cloth wrappings had been completely disintegrated… along with his entire set of blue coveralls.

"Huh… how did I manage that?" he asked himself.

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

If one was to ask any member of the team how they were doing at that particular moment, they would probably respond with the same thing. 'Good, same old same old, and oh you know… chillin.' Not Souffle though. The guy would most likely reply with an 'Amazing! We have everything anyone could ever dream for! Three free meals a day, plenty of things to keep us occupied all day, and super powers!"

Indeed, Souffle was definitely the smile of the group, but this didn't mean that he could be pushed over the edge. It is good to remember that to every light, there is a dark. Souffle had a poisonous personality that spread to his companions in a good way, but he also had a very venomous weapon. By this I mean that it was literally poisonous, one cut and you would be dead in a couple of seconds to a minute if you didn't have an antidote. Like everyone else, with each passing day Souffle saw rapid improvement in his abilities. He learned that he was not only able to spread decay to other living beings with his weapon, but to all forms of matter, and later energy as well.

His Katana, which Omega had dubbed "The Manslayer" was quite the sight to behold. Normally people would flock to Souffle for a lively conversation, but when he had his weapon out… everyone would flee. The thing seemed to devour the air around it, sending a wave of pestilence outwards that would kill a fly. Of course Souffle realised this and summoned his weapon as little as he could, only bringing it out for training purposes. Souffle felt truly blessed. He was able to complete all of the simulations in the training room at any difficulty without much effort a few days after his awakening. He did have one curiosity that he wanted answered, though. His weapon would break any other that he clashed with. Omega's axe, Blight's spear, hell even Selfish's staff. But no matter how many times he slashed at Tokyo's greatsword, it never faltered. One day, he decided to go all out.

"Hey Tokyo, you up for a spar?" exclaimed the man.

Tokyo simply shrugged. "Why not?"

The two approached the ring and bowed to each other in usual fashion. The ring actually shrunk in size to compensate for the two melee fighters, leaving them with just enough space to take advantage of proper footing. They both summoned their weapons, which caused Tokyo's face to twitch a bit as he adjusted his nose to the putrid smell of Souffle's blade. The two charged at each other, clashing swords in the middle of the ring. Tokyo overpowered the katana wielder and pushed his greatsword forward, knocking Souffle to the ground. He then leapt into the air to pounce on Souffle's body with his blade, but watched only as the man in the golden coveralls rolled to the side, avoiding the massive weapon. Tokyo took hold of Souffle before he could rise, but was nicked in the arm by the swordsman's poisonous katana.

"Shit…" he murmured out loud.

Souffle smiled. "You calling it quits?"

Tokyo returned the gesture, still holding Souffle in the air with his left arm. "_Abyss._"

"A- what?" murmured the confused swordsman.

Darkness erupted from Tokyo's sword and the entire arena was hidden in a large black sphere As usual, when weird shit happened everyone looked to the fighting ring in surprise. Thomas made a sprint to the ring but was stopped by Omega.

"This is Tokyo's doing… let them finish the fight." he murmured.

Thomas simply nodded, staring into the dark.

Inside, Souffle lost sight of Tokyo. In fact, he lost all of his senses. He could no longer smell the odor of his weapon, he couldn't hear Scraper slamming his fists against a punching bag like he always did, and he couldn't even feel the clothes that he wore on his back. He didn't even know if he was still holding his weapon or not.

Tokyo on the other hand, was completely fine. No, he was rejuvenated by the darkness. It nurtured his wounds and closed the small cut on his arm for him, sucking the venom out of his veins. Tokyo frowned at the sight of the confused Souffle, who could do nothing but stand still and await his fate. He stabbed his greatsword into Souffle's gut slowly, watching the man's face as its' expression never changed. Souffle had no idea what was happening to him.

"_Ciaran._" Tokyo muttered as the darkness disappeared around the two and he ripped his greatsword out of Souffle.

Souffle fell to the floor, Thomas sprinting at him, chime in hand. The smaller man healed his wounds and the swordsman rose to his feet.

"What in the world was that?" said Souffle, un-summoning his blade as he breathed in clean air.

Omega approached the small group and spoke. "It was Tokyo's weapon, the greatsword of Artorias the Abyss walker."

Thomas nodded, adding on to the information. "Yah… Artorias was a lonely knight. But he had one particular companion named Ciaran, who was also a knight… the two were in love."

Souffle gasped. "So… Artorias was gay?!"

Slapping Souffle across the head, Thomas continued. "Ciaran was a female you idiot, and she was the only person who supported Artorias and his… Abyss walking, besides his wolf companion Sif, who accompanied him wherever he went."

Souffle gasped yet again. "So… he was into wolves too!? What a guy!"

The entire room laughed at Souffle, who was just being himself.

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

Selfish sat on the bleachers after a hard day of training. He always finished with plenty of time at the end of the day because he never took breaks, once he started a job he would complete it. He also did this to make sure he had plenty of time to talk to… her…

"So… how is your day going so far?" whispered Selfish.

His staff, resting vertically in his right hand and sitting on his shoulder… replied. "Well you only summoned me one time today, ONCE. What were you even doing the rest of the time?"

Selfish coughed and waved at Blight as he ran by on the track. "I was training, like always."

The staff retaliated. "Train train train… that's all you ever do! You never pay any attention to me, especially while you're training, which takes for ever by the way! Also when you used me to block Souffle's attack the other day… ew! First of all, I broke in half and second it smelt horribly! Sometimes I think that you don't even care about me!"

Raising his voice, the sorcerer responded. "Are you still on about that? We won that fight, so it doesn't matter."

Blight jogged by again, making another lap, this time he saw Selfish talking to his staff… again. He quickly turned his head, a weirded out expression on his face.

His staff continued… "You know what? I'm done. Find some other slut to satisfy your needs!"

The weapon un-summoned himself and Selfish sighed… not able to do anything about it. This was how his days usually went. Sleep, train, argue with Athena… 'her' supposed name, repeat. One day he had asked Omega about it, and the man simply shrugged.

"I have no recollection of you ever having a talking weapon, but Athena is an ironic name for it seeing as to how it's the 'Staff of Wisdom'." he would say every time Selfish asked… and oh… he asked.

One particular night Selfish prepared himself to go to sleep. The Hologram Room, as it was dubbed by the group, turned into a restroom so everyone could take care of their business. Following that, it turned into a large room, with beds that were well spaced apart. Each of the men had set up curtains around their beds, creating some small form of privacy. The lights in the room shut off and it was pitch black.

In the middle of the night, Selfish was awoken by something in his hands… it was his damned staff. It's blue crystal faintly glowed on the pillow that he rested his head on, nearly scaring the shit out of him.

He flinched. "Wha-... how did you?!"

"Shh… hey I want to talk to you about what happened earlier today…" whispered the staff.

Selfish sighed. "What do you mean?"

The staff continued. "Well I just wanted to apologize for… being a bitch."

The man smiled. "Nah, it's ok. We argue every day so it's pretty normal for me now."

"Normal? So you mean you're all right with us being a dysfunctional couple? You could kiss my ass, you dick!" replied the staff angrily.

"No I didn't mean it like that… and you don't even have an ass!" Selfish retorted.

The staff's blue glow illuminated Selfish's living space, revealing his black coveralls neatly folded on top of the small cabinet to the bed's right.

"Well technically…" The staff whispered. "I do."

Selfish's eyebrow raised itself. "What? I don't have time for games, I need sleep."

Unable to unsummon her and infuriated by the light, he covered the crystal embedded in the head of the staff with his blanket, accidentally rubbing his hand across it.

"Hey, don't touch me THERE!" snapped the staff.

Selfish pondered for a moment. He finally found something that Athena hated! Of course he was going to continue! He rubbed his hand on the crystal and the staff moaned with pleasure. He paused, a little weirded out.

"Don't stop…" whispered the staff.

He thought to himself… and then continued to slowly rub the crystal. After a couple seconds of moaning, groaning, and a loud "YES" proclaimed by Athena, she disappeared. Selfish laid in his bed… not really knowing what had just happened. A few seconds later, Varbos slid his head around one of the black curtains surrounding Selfish's living area, his pyromancy flame illuminating the "room".

"Did I just hear a woman?" whispered the confused man.

Selfish squinted. "Uh… no that was me. I woke up from a… dream. Yah that's it."

"Oh… well good night." said the pyromancer before he disappeared back into the darkness.

The next day Selfish's power was more devastating than it ever was before.

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

Tokyo sat on the bleachers away from everyone else, just like he preferred. He was a quiet and very simple guy. He didn't train much, but when he did he would summon his greatsword and proceed awkwardly. Running on the track? Whip it out. Lifting weights? It's there. Sparing Scraper? Left hand, baby. Of course there was a reason for this, he wouldn't do something like this randomly. His weapon gave him an unmeasurable amount of power. He felt alive with it beside him, and it quelled his loneliness. Omega described the weapon as being an ancient relic, and would always warn him to treat it with caution. Tokyo took heed to the advice, always respecting his own power.

His weapon not only gave him strength equal to that of Scraper's, but he could also use it to call forth the Abyss. If one were to get trapped in it, they would lose all of their senses and would be as helpless as a baby couldn't explain this power… but he knew one thing. The word "Abyss" was written on one side of his blade, while the word "Ciaran" was written on the other. He asked Thomas and Omega about it, and besides a little bit of backstory they didn't seem to know.

The first time he muttered the word out loud he was standing next to Paragon. Darkness covered the two and Paragon stood there, frozen. The golden trim of his blue coveralls wasn't noticeable in the blackness of this realm. Tokyo explored his surroundings, completely unphased by the dark. He felt another presence in his companion's direction and he naturally turned to meet it. Standing next to Paragon was a robed figure holding a scythe. It looked up to Tokyo, but he couldn't see a face, only a mesmerizing darkness. Tokyo soon realized that the scythe it held was actually Paragon's scythe, the same weapon that was now being held to his friend's neck. Tokyo quickly intervened, sprinting at the dark figure with his sword trailing behind him.

The being screeched and removed the scythe from Paragon's neck, letting out an ear rattling shriek. Tokyo attacked the enigma, but it dodged his blows easily. It moved for a counter attack and horizontally slashed the scythe as to cut Tokyo in half at the waist. The swordsman grabbed the scythe's shaft as it approached him and yanked it out of his opponent's hands, throwing it into the Abyss. Tokyo grabbed the anomaly with his left hand and thrust his weapon into its' chest.

It whispered to him. "The abyss will consume all!"

Tokyo wiped a look of disgust off of his face. "What in the world are you?"

The being cackled maniacally before it vanished.

Tokyo was face to face with the side of his blade. He read the inscription written on it out loud and the Abyss was sucked into his blade. Now recovered, Paragon looked at Tokyo… extremely confused.

"What just happened?" he asked.

Tokyo shrugged and thought to himself. Now, he not only preferred to be left alone… but felt like it was his duty to be left alone, lest his power consume all of his friends.

**.**

**(^.^)**

**.**

Omega would often watch the others train, or do some physical training himself. He already had previous knowledge of his weapon and knew his own limits. Omega was the first one done with all of the combat simulations. He volunteered to go through all of them as a product of already knowing what he was doing. The first few weeks of training that the group went through were very productive and busy for Omega, but eventually things died down as (mostly) everyone figured out how to control their power. Occasionally Selfish wouldn't be able to cast any sorceries from his staff, or he would claim that he wasn't able to summon his weapon or even worse, that it would actually hold full conversations with him. The two would discuss the topic during one of their "sessions". Selfish laid on the bleachers, Omega crouched beside him in his comfortable green coveralls with the image of a white winged loli unicorn stitched onto his back.

"So what did 'Athena' do now?" he asked.

Selfish gulped. "Well I was in the middle of a spar with Scraper and she just stopped working."

Omega nodded. "And what did you do?"

"I told her to stop screwing around, then she just disappeared!" replied the crazed man.

"Hm… and what happened after that?" prodded Omega.

"Well, Scraper thought that I unsummoned the staff and figured I was screwing around with him, which pissed him off. So he beat the fuck out of me." whimpered Selfish.

Omega sighed. "Maybe you should come to good terms with 'Athena'. Maybe then she'll cooperate with you."

Selfish gave a quick nod and stood to leave. "I'll try."

Omega smiled. He didn't actually believe a single word that spoken by Selfish about his staff, in fact he thought that the man was bat shit crazy. But it didn't matter what was in his mind, what mattered was the action he took in trying to counsel Selfish. Obviously Selfish wasn't the only one with problems, everyone would meet with Omega whenever they had something prodding at their mind.

He would often take his weapon for a spin and put his skills to the test. He nicknamed it the "Golem Axe", and it was truly worthy of the name. It weighed one whole ton and it was made of a metal called "titanite", an ore only found in Dark Souls itself which meant that it was completely alien to Earth. Whenever he swung it, the weapon produced a powerful shockwave that would travel to opponents like a cannon ball and hit them with the force equal to one. Omega still recounts the very first day the group started training.

Admiral Shwartz walked into the gym to explain how things worked. "Everything in here is a simulation. You may state the simulation you want, and add a difficulty to the end of that and the Hologram Room will create it for you. You could do this anywhere in here… the fighting ring, the punching bags, hell even the track will become harder."

The entire group stared at everything in awe and the admiral continued. "Does anyone want to give a demonstration?"

The men stared at each other in confusion. Omega sighed and stepped into the ring.

"How does this work?" said the bravest of the group.

"Simply state Simulation and then a number from one to nine, one being easiest. And then state easy, medium, or hard difficulty. I'd start off slow if I were you." added the older man.

Omega summoned his axe in his right hand. "Simulation nine, difficulty hard."

The admiral coughed. "Or not."

Everything in the room except for the bleachers vanished. The admiral guided everyone to them and they all took a seat. Glass walls appeared between all of them and Omega. The man in the "MLP" coveralls, as he grew to call it, gave the group a thumbs up.

Three men appeared and surrounded Omega. All of them were tall and decorated with unique armor. They all had white hair and appeared very old… in fact they looked almost like kings. One of the men adorned a robe like visage with silver plated armor hidden underneath the magnificent cloth. His blade looked demonic, but glowed with the aura of the soul. The second king appeared as luminous as the sun itself. His golden armor blinded Omega, as it was reflecting the flames off of the king's gigantic greatsword. The third king wore a set of black plated steel, with a dark cape hanging off of his shoulders. He carried a shield and sword that matched his size, which was easily that of two men. The room also changed and took the appearance of an ancient kiln.

A feminine machine like voice echoed throughout the room. "Enemies present: Old King Allant, Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight, King Vendrick I of Drangleic. Objective: Survive for 10 minutes."

Omega thought to himself… survive? He smiled. He would do more than simply survive. All three of the kings simultaneously charged at Omega as he threw his body out of the way. Their blades collided in the center of the kiln and sent ash flying in all directions. King Allant's sword glowed with energy but Omega swung his axe through the air, sending a shockwave at the king. It collided with him, knocking the foe to the floor. Gwyn jumped at Omega, but the axe wielder slammed his weapon into his opponent's and forced the king to drop it. He took advantage of the defenseless king and dug his axe into his chest. Before he could pull it out King Vendrick charged at him with his shield, knocking him off of Gwyn. Omega quickly summoned his weapon to him, watching as blood poured from Gwyn's wound. Allant was now on his feet and launched a volley of soul magic at Omega, forcing him to go on the defensive. He dodged the spells but saw a giant flash of sunlight appear in the corner of his eye. He instinctively two handed his axe and prepared it's face to block for him. Gwyn launched a spear made entirely of lightning at Omega, who blocked the attack. With lightning coursing through his veins and Omega was brought to his knees. He tried move, but he simply couldn't. The kings slowly approached him, their swords in hand.

Omega coughed up a hand full of blood and leaned on his axe. His opponents had reached him and raised their weapons into the air to deliver the killing blow. Omega reacted by raising his axe and slamming it into the ground, sending unleashing a massive shockwave. He knocked all of the kings onto the ground and brought himself to his feet. He lobbed off Gwyns head before he could rise and dug his axe into Allant's waste. He kicked the king off of his weapon. When he thought he was in the clear he was backstabbed by Vendrick. Blood spilled out of his mouth and stained his pink clothing. The blade protruded from Omega's stomach and he felt like giving up. Vendrick lifted Omega into the air and then tossed him onto the ash covered floor. Omega twitched his fingers and the king took notice, he prepared to deliver the killing blow.

Inside of the glass box that housed the bleachers and the men sitting upon them, a conversation was brought up.

Selfish turned to the admiral and asked. "What happens when a person dies during a simulation?"

Admiral Shwartz shrugged. "They die."

The sorcerers eyes widened and he rose from his seat. He pounded on the glass and yelled for Omega to stand. The others were too shocked or scared to do anything.

Omega flipped himself around to look at what would be his end. He managed to lift his head and noticed a man in black coveralls slamming his fists against the glass wall. He looked really worried for Omega, but the injured man couldn't figure out why. He had literally just met these people, why would any of them care? When the group noticed Omega staring at them, every one of them got up and started to do the same thing. He couldn't hear what they were saying… but from their lips he could read two words.

"Get up." he whispered…

He turned to meet Vendrick, who plunged his blade downwards towards him. He rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet, ignoring all of the blood and pain. He summoned his golem axe into his hand and charged at his opponent. Vendrick thrust his greatsword forward but Omega ducked underneath it, striking at the king's legs. Vendrick fell to his back as his severed leg was sent flying into the air and Omega dug his axe into the king's chest. The sound of Omega's battle cry echoed over the shattering of his opponent's ribs. Within moments the dead bodies of the kings disappeared and Omega was back in the Hologram Room, disguised as a gym. He turned to the group as they ran to him. Thomas had his chime in his hand and was ringing it like a madman. With his wounds closing, tears streamed down Omega's face.

Admiral Shwartz applauded as he leisurely strolled to the man. "You have the qualities of a good leader!"

Omega smiled. "Thanks."


	2. Chapter 1

Petty Officer Rogers gasped. "Situation Dark was a success sir! The subject is waking up."

"Open that pod up! We need to welcome him back like a hero." said Admiral Shwartz, pointing through the observation glass into the Hologram Room.

Almost on queue the glass covering the face of the spherical pod opened towards the ceiling. A smaller man clambered out of the white sphere, his naked body falling to the floor. Two sailors ran into the room to help him to his feet and clothe him. They dressed him in a gray coverall suit with a large zero patched onto its' back. Admiral Schwartz stepped into the room excitingly.

"How do you feel… did you get it?" he exclaimed.

"Yah… I got it." Eric said as a silver crossbow appeared in his right hand.

The observation room exploded into an echo of cheering. "We're saved!" and "He did it!" along with other phrases were shouted out. A sailor even pulled out a bottle of vodka that he sneaked into the room and popped it open, pouring shots for his companions. The admiral turned to the crew to shout at them.

"Hey, cut that out you idiots. You're in the military! Have some discipline!"

"Admiral Schwartz." whispered the man, interrupting him.

The officer turned to the armed man. "Yes?"

The individual locked onto the admiral's eyes. "Where did the virus come from?"

"What do you mean? I have no idea." said the older man in retort.

The two's eyes never left one another. The crowd in the observation room was as loud as ever, but the world had slowed down. Eric was in a state of complete focus as he tried to read admiral Schwartz, but he just couldn't get past the man's guise.

"I think you do…" muttered the man.

The admiral nodded and without second thought his next action was to quickly reach for a hidden revolver holstered behind to his lower back. He fired at the prodigy but the bullet ricocheted off of the enigma's face, striking one of the two sailors standing next to him. The other sailor immediately knelt down to help his shipmate, completely ignoring the rest of the situation. The man struck the sailor in the back of the head with his the butt of his gargoyle shaped crossbow, knocking the man out. The admiral rapidly turned to the observation deck.

"_Shut the door!_" he yelled.

The sailors scrambled to their stations and the door slowly began to slide shut. With a bright glowing bolt of energy appearing on his crossbow, the man aimed the weapon towards the door and released the projectile. It flew out of the Hologram Room and impaled itself into the backwall of the observation deck. The admiral saw the glowing white projectile fly past his shoulder and turned to face the traitor. He was shocked to find that in the enigma's place laid the small glowing bolt that had just been fired a split second ago. He broke into a sprint for the door but couldn't make it before it was fully closed. He started to slam his fists into it, yelling for his sailors to let him out.

On the other side of the wall the man in the gray coverall suit suddenly appeared in front of the drunken group of sailors, stunning them momentarily. He shifted his way out into the hallway and closed the bulkhead hatch behind him, turning the lock on it to seal the entire room. After taking a couple steps an alarm struck the man's ears.

*_Alert* Situation Dark subject has gone rogue. Apprehend the subject, do not try to engage with fire arms. *Alert*_

Upon hearing this, he switched from running to firing his crossbow down large hallways or up large flights of stairs, using his newfound powers to blink throughout the ship. He would often aim right at sailors or civilians who got in his way, but they weren't stupid enough to stand there and get shot. Since most dodged out of the way he was able to make his way to the upper deck with ease. The man opened the very last hatch to the surface world, unveiling a mile long black arc. Greenhouses lined the mile long feat of human engineering, completely stretching from one end of the ship to the other. Eric chose a random direction and fired horizontally, the glowing projectile he unleashed flying straight into the distance like it was guided by magic. The man soon found himself surrounded by heavily armed personnel. Admiral Schwartz stepped forth from the crowd.

"Are you out of your damned mind?" He said, trying to negotiate.

"Me? You're as hollow as those things out there." were the last words muttered by the test subject before he vanished, a glowing bolt appearing in his place. The admiral crept towards the alien object, cursing as it evaporated.

.

(^.^)

.

Varbos jumped out of his bed from his deep slumber. His body was covered in sweat and his pyromancy flame was in his palm. His covers were on fire and he threw them onto the floor. He stomped on the flames repeatedly, causing Blight to peek his head through Varbos' curtains.

"Put that out, the admiral is going to be here in a few minutes!" Blight frantically said.

Varbos turned to the source of the voice. "Help me!"

Blight nodded and his spear appeared in his hands. He spun the weapon in a circle, summoning a focused tornado on the burnt cloth. The flame suffocated and Varbos threw the blanket over his bed in panic, the blackened side facing the sheets. The lights in the room flipped on and the shift of a door sliding open could be heard in the distance. The sounds of a trumpet blared throughout the room as all of the men quickly got out of their beds and stood by them, awaiting their orders.

Admiral Schwartz walked up and down the line of beds and trainees wearing nothing but their underwear. It was five in the morning and the entire group had been pleasantly woken up by the sound of reveille. The general officer eyed each individual, observing how much each had grown since they had awoken nearly six months before. The team had gone from a classroom of little boys to a fully functional squad of men through hard work, sweat, tears, and a good old overdose of protein. The admiral snapped his fingers and a long dark cigar materialized in his hands. He strode up to Varbos and motioned for the pyromancer to light the cuban, an order that was quickly followed.

"When did you start smoking, sir?" asked Varbos.

After blowing tons of smoke in the man's face, the admiral responded. "Ever since I felt the need to look more intimidating."

Turning away from the coughing trainee, the old man continued to pace in front of the group. He tufted away at his cigar for a moment before he spoke.

"We're getting close to graduation day. You're going to leave this room and then you're going to save the world. That's an order, but first…" He paused.

He threw a thumbs up into the air and a pale, dark haired woman walked into the room dressed in a pattern of blue camouflage. The sailor pushed a cart of oxygen masks connected to metal tanks via plastic tubes in front of her. She stopped in front of the group and snapped to the standing position of parade rest, her arms behind her back and her feet spread shoulder width apart. This was the first female that the group had seen since their awakening, but the men had matured since then. Most of them continued staring at the admiral, occasionally flickering their eyes towards the mysterious metallic cylinders that sat in front of them. By most of them, I mean everyone but Paragon. He never took his creepy eyes off of the sailor, and if it wasn't already obvious that he was excited… the growing bulge in his pants did plenty to make sure that it was well known.

The admiral smiled. "Now, we can't actually physically touch you. All of you are exactly like those hollowed bastards. You are completely immune to any harm that we would try to deal to you; bullets, explosions, and needles included."

He took one last drag of his cigar before tossing it onto the floor and watching it disappear.

"We can't hurt you, but gas could. Which is what these are!" he exclaimed, waving his arms towards the cart.

The admiral continued after a brief moment. "Inside these cans are vaccines for various diseases found throughout the world. You are going to breath in the entire thing, puke your guts out, and take an entire week off of training to recover. Think of this as… a vaccination."

The entire room responded with a resounding "Yes sir!" before the officer turned to leave.

Admiral Schwartz stopped in front of the sailor. "Anything to brief, nurse?"

"Yes sir. I think THAT one will need a suppository." she stated, pointing at Paragon… the trainee pointing at her, if you know what I mean.

"Your call." added the admiral before walking out of the room.

Without anything else to say, the sailor got to work. Several seconds later everyone with the exception of Thomas, who didn't have to breathe to survive, and Paragon, who was receiving the vaccinations through his rectal cavity, was inhaling in a whole-hearted dosage of gas. Naturally everyone who breathed in the stuff choked and wheezed horribly before passing out due to lack of oxygen, everyone but Selfish that is. He watched as Paragon screamed in pain, unable to do anything to avoid his demise. His determination to see his companion go through complete and utter torture was extremely awkward, but he enjoyed every moment of it. As for Thomas, he tried to cover his eyes, but his darker side got the better of him. He may have allowed himself a look or two.

With her job done, the nurse left the room and drug her horrible cart of doom with her. The men returned to their beds, except for Paragon who didn't feel like laying down or taking a seat. A new routine was developed throughout the week. Training was often replaced with rest and guys often kept buckets next to their bed in case they felt the need to puke, and took precautions such as eating light meals to avoid their gut wrenching fates. Thomas wanted to help his team mates badly, but he had been instructed not to lift a finger. The men needed the exposure to the disease, their bodies needed to know how to fight them. Thomas didn't understand at first, but he didn't question the admiral's judgement. After a while Paragon had recovered, but a brand was seared into his mind. It was one that would make him fear for his booty for the rest of his life.

After the week had passed the group found themselves in a familiar situation. Lined up by their beds, the admiral pacing in front of them with a cigar in his mouth. He blew smoke into Varbos' face once again, but this time the trainee was smart enough to hold his breath.

Smiling at his men, the older man continued. "Time for your final briefing. We are splitting you into teams based on your abilities, in order to take back certain objectives. The areas we're sending you to are swarming with infected. Our original plan was to wait for all of them to starve to death, but satellite imagery shows that those bastards aren't dying."

Selfish coughed, drawing the admirals attention.

"Yes, soldier?" he said.

Nodding, the sorcerer spoke. "There are only nine of us sir. How are we supposed to take out millions of them?"

"If you let me finish I'll tell you. The hollows are drawing power from large demons. As batshit crazy as that sounds, let it be made clear that we've already crossed the borders into the impossible." said the officer, eyeing everyone in the room.

He continued. "You won't know who you're paired up with 'til we're up top. You're going to be escorted to helicopters that will take you to your destinations. Once you arrive find the biggest, ugliest mother fucker there and kill it. You boys are going to be deployed to areas around the United States, we're focusing on taking our home back first. Once you've cleared your first assigned area wander from city to city, purging areas with large swarms of those _things, _got it?"

The admiral gave a random signal, a familiar nurse walked into the room with the same cart that she had a week earlier. This time there were no gas tanks, instead the cart was lined with nine metal hip flasks.

Omega smiled. "We're going to celebrate, sir?"

The rest of the squad laughed.

The admiral simply bowed to the nurse. "They're all yours."

"I need a volunteer. YOU." she pointed at Paragon.

Paragon nervously approached the woman, ensuring his back never faced her.

"YOU, do something that will make him bleed." she said, pointing at Selfish.

"Gladly." the sorcerer smiled, summoning his staff and launching a glowing blue spear into Paragon's back.

The man coughed blood out into his arms. The bright mass of energy disappeared and left a large hole in his gut. He stood his ground however, as he had been hit by hundreds of Selfish's spells whilst training the past six months. The nurse grabbed one of the flasks and gave it to him.

"Drink." she stated.

Paragon slowly took the metal hip flask from the sailor and chugged it down. Orange liquid flowed down his throat as his stomach quickly healed and the blood that stained his gold trimmed, blue coveralls disappeared. The group gasped in amazement.

Omega and Thomas exclaimed, talking in unison. "Estus."

Blight turned to the two. "What?"

Thomas pointed to Omega, who nodded and explained. "In the game world there was a specific item called an estus flask. It healed our wounds and was refreshed every time we rested."

The nurse nodded. "Exactly, and we've replicated it. We decided to go with the metallic hip flask design to prevent this tech from breaking easily. A mouthful of the liquid will heal any wound and give your body the nutrients it needs to survive. Essentially, one sip of this a day will keep you hydrated and eliminate the necessity of eating."

"What do we do when it runs out?" asked Souffle.

The sailor gladly answered. "As long as there is at least one drop left inside the flask it will multiply itself and eventually fill the entire unit. Every twelve hours the flask should be full."

"Wow, you've made the human race immortal!" exclaimed Varbos.

The nurse shook her head. "Not quite. The flasks only work on you guys, the liquid is useless to the average human."

With that being said, she handed a flask to each member of the team. When approaching Thomas, he asked her why he needed one.

"Just in case." she said, insisting he take the item.

He shrugged, taking the flask into his hands. A group of sailors entered the room and motioned for the men to follow them. For the first time since their awakening the group was going to leave the Hologram Room. They stepped into the observation deck and stared at all of the buttons in wonder. Not a single soul was inside of the room as they made their way into the hallway. After walking in silence for what seemed like an eternity the group reached the upper deck of the ship. An enormous crowd of servicemembers and civilians alike cheered for the group as they exited.

The admiral saluted as he exited. "At ease everyone. Men, welcome to the USS Shield!"

"So we were on a boat this entire time?" whispered Tokyo.

Souffle smiled to his friend and gave an exciting nod.

The sun shined in the men's eyes and it took them a while to adjust themselves, but when they came to they could see everything and everyone. Crowds of people cheered behind rows of military, the service members all wearing their own unique uniforms. The men saluted the elite squad as they were escorted by sailors, creating a rising sense of pride within the team. People lined the entire upper deck of the ship, taking up every bit of space on the one mile long strip of land. To be honest, it was a little scary for the nine.

They were escorted to the far back of the ship, passing all sorts of different kinds of people and different sized buildings. The crowd cleared out, everyone returning to their posts as the men reached a group of five CH-53 helicopters. An army sergeant was yelling out names and pointing to each of the different ones.

"Blight and Paragon, one. Thomas and Scraper, two. Souffle and Varbos, three. Tokyo and Omega, four. Selfish, five."

The men rushed to each helicopter in excitement and were lifted off of the ground. The pilot-less helicopters hovered away from the USS Shield, each of the men gazing at the ship as they flew into the horizon. It's hard to leave the nest.

.

(^.^)  
.

"Hosen, where did you go comrade? Hosen? Are you even listening?"

The scratchy russian voice came from a man sized cardboard box in a damp trash filled alley. A hollow limped towards the box, it's jaw hanging off of it's face.

"Hosen, if you don't answer in the next five seconds you're fired! Niet, you're dead!"

The hollow's head cocked to the side as it stared at the box. It crept even closer, just in time to see the box fly up into the air. It's head followed the box, watching it launch upwards in awe. By the time it reverted its' gaze forwards, the fist of a man in a red coverall suit smashed into its' face. The hollow fell onto it's back, its' limbs too weak to resist the attack. The man proceeded to grab the hollow by the legs and spin it around in the air, revolving a full three hundred and sixty degrees before letting it fly into a nearby brick wall. Before its' head could collide into the stone with a satisfying crack, the man already had a small radio in his right hand.

"I'm in some alley way by Saint Basil's Cathedral. Any word on the demon's location?" he finally answered.

The radio replied in orderly fashion. "Hosen you idiot! What were you doing for the last three hours?!"

Hosen scratched his head. "Eh… funny story."

In Hosen's head he couldn't help but think of how he was strolling through the grand streets of Moscow with his team just hours ago. Destroyed cars were slammed into buildings, debris lined all of the gray avenues and streets, and nature had begun to grow over the rough exterior of the decaying city. While he was taking in his surroundings, a hollow had stumbled into the group of three. In complete silence the group stopped, one wrong move and the operation could have been compromised. Both of Hosen's companions eyed Hosen through their peripherals, waiting for his move. He turned his head to the left, giving his armored companion a good old taste of the elevator eyes. Was it really necessary to wear all of that armor? Hosen thought. You look like a freaking rock!

After thinking to himself for another moment, and adding a little head nod he turned to the companion to his right. He examined her busty features that looked like they could explode out of her black coverall suit at any moment. A smile slowly crept forward on Hosen's face… but it dispersed as fast as it formed. On the woman's face she wore a golden mask resembling an older man. Hosen grimaced and couldn't help but play with the thought of an ugly face underneath the mask. She must look like my father or something! He exclaimed to himself.

After observing his team of weirdos Hosen returned his gaze towards the hollow, who still stood in the middle of the destroyed russian capital, simply staring. Hosen nodded to himself and snapped his fingers.

"Ive got it, we'll try diplomacy!" he stated.

The woman with the mask of the father, as Hosen dubbed it in his mind, turned to him. "Are you fucking crazy?"

The armor behemoth to the left of Hosen face palmed.

Hosen shrugged and raised his voice. "Hey hollow, you wouldn't happen to know if there are any demons around here, would you?"

The hollow opened its' mouth as to speak, but only a cloud of dust spilled forth. The thing quickly closed its' mouth, letting its' salivary glands do their job as it swathed its' tongue through its' sharp teeth. The group covered their ears in unison as the infected then let out a loud death dealing shriek. Once their ears recovered, they could hear footsteps. Lots of footsteps. They felt like a horde of undead was now charging them from all around the city. The female of the group looked to the armored behemoth, noticing that Hosen had disappeared.

"Where did he go?!" she yelled.

The man shrugged. "Ya ne znayu."

With his flashback over and his radio still yelling at him, Hosen smiled to himself. Oh the memories, he thought. He summoned an enormous shield the size of his body in his right arm. It looked like a gray rock with chains that crossed the front of the wall, forming an X. Hosen raised the shield into the air and slammed it into the ground face first, propelling himself upwards towards the top of one of the buildings forming the alleyway he was trapped in. He looked around the city, the static of his radio interrupting the scenic view of a destroyed Moscow. Quickly switching the dastardly thing off, he couldn't help but notice that it had snowed. How wonderful! The ice cream shaped tops of Saint Basil's were covered in gray goodness and the weather had even extended its' love to the iconically destroyed Kremlin. Hosen pinched some of the mysterious gray snow in his hands and threw it into his mouth. He started to cough as he heaved the stuff out of his face.

"That's not snow, that's-"

"Ash." his sentence was finished by the sudden appearance of daddy's girl.

After coughing for a moment, Hosen came to his senses and returned his gaze to the Kremlin. A gigantic ash spewing volcano, which he had completely missed during his previous gaze upon the city, had placed itself in the center of Moscow's jewel! How tasteless!

"The demon is in there. We're moving out. Oh… and command put me in charge." spat daddy's girl.

Hosen whined like a five year old, but he sucked it up while the new team leader spoke.

She formulated a plan. "There's a horde of hollows down there. Hosen you're taking the rear while Havelyn leads us to the entrance point. Intelligence shows…"

And she talked. And talked. Hosen couldn't help but space out as her arms moved about the air and her breasts bounced up and down her battle-torn coveralls. Just as he was about to fantasize he took one gaze at her face… or rather, the mask of the father.

"Daddy's girl…" he muttered.

She snapped at him. "What the fuck? You will address me by my given name not some childish title you created in your fucked up head, american!"

Hosen cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, _Legend_."

The new leader of the team turned her head towards the armored man. "Lets go. I want to get out of this shit hole."

The Havelyn nodded and summoned his iconic weapons in his hands. Two repeater crossbows exploded out of his palms in a burst of yellow lightning. The Legend called forth a large sword two times the size of her own body, which she referred to as a zweihander. The two jumped down into the alley that Hosen had _just _escaped from and started to slowly make their way to the Kremlin. With a sigh Hosen joined the two and turned his back towards the party, raising his shield as he walked backwards.

Avenue by avenue and street by street, the group made its' way through the now ash covered city of Moscow. Things were a little different this time, as the team wasn't alone. Packs of hollows crawled through the streets, occasionally running into the group of three. Those that weren't mowed down by the almost machine gun-like fire of the Havelyn in the front of the party were cleaved by the Legend's zweihander. Hosen had resorted to… do I dare say it… guard duty. Whenever a squad of infected flanked the group, he would simply point it out and they would get mowed down. He sighed and complained, but his words reached deaf ears.

The group came upon a four way intersection, leaving them extremely vulnerable. From the ruins of destroyed buildings hollows raised makeshift bows with rusty arrows pointed towards the group. Hosen noticed and the troll inside of him disappeared.

"Duck!" he yelled as he placed the wall in his arms in between a volley of arrows and the Legend.

The Havelyn laughed as arrows ricocheted off his armor. He took out the hollows like it was just another target practice session. Hosen ran around The Legend, deflecting random projectiles from all directions. He noticed that the now kneeling woman had broken down. Her weapon was no where in sight and she frantically looked from building to building as arrows were shot at the group. Her hands covered her ears and she screamed.

"We have to get out of this intersection!" Hosen yelled back.

The Havelyn turned his head, still firing his crossbows at windows and hitting every hollow aimed at, giving a quick nod. Hosen whipped the chains on his shield across his chest, successfully attaching the wall to his back. He lifted daddy's girl to her feet and pushed her forward, forcing her to keep up with the Havelyn as he did his thing. The group made a swift exit from the intersection, but the attack didn't relent. The infected in the city could smell fear in the group, a fear that sprouted into weakness. The frequency of running into packs of wild hollows increased as the group neared the Kremlin.

The group ran into a very tall red wall, which was the only thing that separated them from their objective. The Havelyn took the rear of the group as Hosen hoisted his shield into his right arm again. He slammed it into the wall, creating a large dent in the walls' stone.

"It's pretty thick, this may take a while." he said, continually slamming the shield into the wall.

"Da." muttered the Havelyn.

The armored killing machine spat bolts of lightning into swarms of hollows as they charged the party. A bloodied hollow in tattered clothing managed to jump onto the Havelyn, biting at the giants' armor. The man yelled as he continued to fire into the crowd of infected, trying to shake the hollow off. Another hollow followed that one… and another.

Hosen noticed what was happening. He turned to daddy's girl. "You have to do something. Help him!"

He turned to the wall and continued to hammer it as hard as he could. Cracks extended to the top of the wall and spread further with each swing. The Legend snapped back to her senses as she was given the command. Her zweihander flashed into her right hand and she sliced a hollow off of the Havelyn. After kicking another off and stabbing her blade into the last, she let loose a terrifying battle cry that quite literally scared the dead. She rushed into the crowd of hollows and swung her gargantuan weapon through the air. Heads, arms, torsos, and all other types of body parts flew in separate directions. The crowd of infected conveniently cleared as Hosen brought down the wall to the Kremlin with a final smash of his shield. The Legend, now completely soaked in blood, joined the other two as they ran into the complex.

It wasn't hard for the group to find their way into the volcano. With Hosen leading their frantic sprint, the three filed into a large cave hidden by the slopes of the mountain. Hollows steadily flowed through the broken wall behind the group and the Havelyn went to work. Hosen tapped his companion on the shoulder and pointed to the roof of the cave. The two nodded and retreated further into the volcano. The american slammed his shield against the wall of the cave, causing the ceiling to collapse. The three made a mad dash for the core of the mountain, debris and dirt following their footsteps. Hosen saw an opening in the distance and took note of how daddy's girl motioned for a dive roll. Following her, Hosen dove out of the tunnel with his companions, landing on a land bridge in a large magma filled chamber.

"Phew, that was close!" coughed Hosen, spitting a ball of ash out of his lungs.

The Legend turned to Hosen and the Havelyn. "That was stupid! If we get out of here, I'll kill you both!"

Hosen smiled back at daddy's girl. "Well, at least we don't have hollows chasing us anymore!"

The Havelyn shrugged and Hosen just laughed. The Legend rubbed soot out of her eyes, revealing the entire chamber. Above she could see the mouth of the volcano, and the ash covered sky behind it. The Legend squinted as she looked spied a man sized hole on the other side of the natural bridge.

"An exit! We could get out of here!" she cheered.

A swathe of sparks appeared to the right of the Legend as she faced her friends. Hosen's pupils dilated as he jumped in front of her, pushing her onto the floor. The sparks joined together in a large explosion, knocking Hosen into the debris from earlier. The Legend screamed as she ran to Hosen, his clothing was in rags and his body was badly burned.

The Havelyn faced the opposite side of the bridge, his crossbows ready. He saw a three yellow figures in the distance. Men? Maybe… he thought. They looked like men, but wore strange robes and had gigantic swirling turbans that looks like… dildos? The Havelyn shook his head, he thought he was being delusional. His vision didn't change, the three figures all lit torches in their hands and waved them around menacingly.

"Uh…" stated the heavily armored man.

The Legend left Hosen on the debris, realizing that there was nothing she could do for him. He stood aside the Havelyn and eyed her opponents.

She could only think of one thing to say. "What the fu-"

A loud bass drop was heard coming from who knows where. It echoed throughout the entirety of the chamber as the three beings on the opposing side hurled large pyromancies from their hands. The entire side of the bridge that held the russians was bathed in flames and smoke. The three men stopped their bombardment eventually, all doing their own form of "Well, what is it?".

The flames began to clear, revealing a large wall between the Xanthous Kings and the russians. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that this wasn't just a wall, it was Havel's Greatshield. Hosen held the slab in front of him, heavily breathing as parts of his face charred up and fell to the floor in a pile of ash. The Legend gasped, rushing to her companion to attempt to aid him again. Hosen's entire body was blackened and she thought twice about touching him, quickly backing off when he turned his head towards the Havelyn.

"Counter attack." he whispered.

The Havelyn nodded and unleashed a volley of lightning flavored bolts at the enemy. The three pyromancers started to launch large fireballs again, which collided with Hosen's shield as he stepped forward. Foot by foot, the charred soul marched forward. Daddy's girl was crouched behind him, her Zweihander hanging over her shoulder. The Havelyn used Hosen as a point of cover, popping out to deliver a volley of fifteen shots or so before hiding behind the wall once again. The Xanthous Kings were as agile as they were deadly, simply sidestepping any ranged attacks directed towards them. The pyromancers eventually stopped their bombardment, seeing its' ineffectiveness. They looked at each other, no words or sounds coming out of their unseen mouths. The yellow turbans that covered even their faces nodded up and down as they started to murmur amongst themselves.

Hosen wasn't about to wait for what was about to happen. He reached into a pocket with his right hand and pulled out a mysterious item. It was a small skull the size of his palm. Something about it seemed intoxicating, if not alluring. A smile cracked through Hosen's charred lips and he tossed the small object into the center of the huddled group of yellow dildo heads. They suddenly began to fight amongst themselves, battling to pick the object up.

"Now!" whispered Hosen before letting out a pitiful cough.

The Legend made her way to the front of the group, breaking into a dead sprint as she ran towards the idiotic Xanthous Kings. She yelled as she cleaved her zweihander in an arc in front of her. She caught two of the men with her blade, sending their torsos flying into the lava. The last Xanthous King held the prized Alluring Skull into the air as he raved. The Legend was not amused and she sent the man flying into the wall a couple yards behind him with the crack of her leg. Blood lined his newly formed stomach wound and the cloth wrappings around his head began to teem with red. The Legend moved towards the man but her senses kicked in. She stepped to the side as a volley of electric crossbow bolts swept through the air before penetrating the yellow covered man's face. Daddy's girl turned around, clearly pissed off.

"You couldn't have just waited, asshole?" she spat, her weapon disappearing from her hands.

The Havelyn shrugged as Hosen let out one final chuckle. His shield vanished and his face slammed into the ground in front of him. The last thing that he remembered before he blacked out were his comrades rushing to him, their voices muffling through the shadows.

.

(^.^)

.

"Oh god, please help me! They're coming in through the door front door… I don't know how long I'll last!"

The voice of the panicking woman echoed through a small radio around a young man's waist. He reached over his purple hoody and grabbed the device off of his blue jeans.

"Where are you at? We'll come help you!" he said confidently.

A voice echoed back from the other side, loud banging noises could be heard in the background. "I'm in a McDolan's (Copyright is brought to you by the US Government, get sued today!) right next to the Space Needle. Please hurry!"

The man returned the radio to his pants and nodded to his companion. He reached into a small sack he wore on his back and pulled a hand held taser out of it. With the press of a button electricity sparked out of the object's prongs. He smiled to his companion.

"You ready to save a damsel in distress, Gutter?"

His companion folded his arms over his blue polo. "I don't know Avezerix, it could be a trap."

Avezerix sighed. "Come on man, I haven't gotten pussy since this whole thing started, now's my chance!"

Gutter sighed, pulling a coiled up metallic whip out of his black backpack.

"That's the spirit!" chimed Avezerix.

The crept through the raining streets of Seattle, avoiding packs of hollow soldiers and other mindless foes patrolling throughout the gray city. It was all going well until the two saw a large pale dragon in the distance. Gutter grabbed Avezerix and threw him into a large bush, putting a hand over his companion's mouth as the mutated creature took to flight with its' exotic glowing wings. It roared as it miraculously lifted its' tentacle like legs off of the ground and crashed right into the city's aquarium, shaking the earth violently. A swarm of crystallized zombies followed the beast on foot, running straight at the two men who hid in between the beast's last location and its' new one. The two remained crouched in the shadows as the horde of blue skinned undead ran past them.. Avezerix pointed to a small building in the distance. The giant golden "M" atop the entrance to the building clearly marked what it was.

"Lets make a break for it!" whispered Avezerix.

Gutter scolded him. "In your dreams! What if we're caught?"

Avezerix coughed. "If we're fast enough we won't be."

His companion sighed. The two waited for a few more packs of crystallized hollows to run by and charged the large golden arcs. They burst through the doors and hid underneath a table to the left of the entrance.

"They see us?" asked Gutter.

"I don't think so…" pondered Avezerix as he looked around.

The fast food restraunt was your typical Mc' D's. An open ended wall lined the middle of the room, separating the eating area from the ordering area. The opposite wall was lined with a fountain drink dispenser which fed into a bar-style barrier blocking customers from the employees.

"It's pretty quiet in here." whispered Gutter.

"Damn right it is!" yelled a loud female voice.

The two looked around as a woman wearing a black leather coat and a pair of green tinted jeans approached the two from the kitchen, she pointed a revolver at both of them. Avezerix readied his taser and Gutter uncoiled his whip with a loud crack. The woman pulled the hammer of the gun backwards, twisting the cylinder.

"Drop 'em, bitches." she said, spitting to the side.

The two looked at each other and grimaced.

"You wouldn't shoot that thing in here, the hollows would be swarming this place in an instant!" scolded Gutter.

Avezerix turned to him, very content with his response. "That's it Gutter, use logic on her ass!"

The woman smiled and shot at one of the windows behind the two. Avezerix answered with an 'Oh fuck!' as he dropped his taser onto the floor and put his arms behind his head. Gutter did the same with a resounding sigh.

Smiling, their foe continued. "Throw me your back sacks."

"Back sacks?" whispered Avezerix.

She sighed. "You know what I mean, fucker. Hurry up."

The two reluctantly did as she said again, their backpacks slamming onto the ground. The woman picked the bags up with her left hand, but something was off. Avezerix couldn't help but notice that her left hand was metallic, it appeared to be made of a grayish metal. The man lifted an eyebrow and prodded the woman's thoughts.

"What's that on your hand?" he asked.

"This is how I'm going to escape!" she said, flicking her left hand forward. She turned away from the two and casually strolled to the employee's exit. Avezerix picked his taser up and tried to rush forward, only to be stopped by an invisible wall. He explored it with his hands before turning to Gutter.

"What is this shit!?" he exclaimed.

Gutter nodded, picking his weapon up. "It's a forcefield. She has an I-Glove."

Avezerix scratched his head as the woman disappeared from sight, one could swear that steam could be seen leaving his ears at this moment… his brain was working too hard.

"It's a piece of technology that Orange (Haha, copyright is fun isn't it?) was developing right before the virus hit. It has a number of features: Ziri, GPS, loads of storage for all your favorite music, and it could even create a single focused force field to protect the user." explained Gutter.

"Well that's not fair!" complained Avezerix.

Gutter coughed. "Well, everything has its' flaws. If the user runs into some electricity… their chances of dieing are increased by one hundred forty two percent. Which is why Orange (Haha, is this getting old yet?) stopped producing them."

The man nodded to Gutter, fully understanding. He caught a glimpse of something in his peripherals and turned his head around, spotting an abnormally large horde of crystallised hollows staring at the two from behind the recently broken window. Avezerix felt the are in front of him, realizing that the forcefield had dissipated. With an astonishing 'Oh Fuck!' the two broke into a sprint for the employee's exit, running down alley after alley in an attempt to get away from the horde.

Meanwhile, by one of the many crystalline structures that lined the city of Seattle a car driven by the aggressive woman from earlier parked into a lot full of similar looking dysfunctional cars. The woman picked her loot up from the passenger's seat and strolled into the literal "Giant Crystal". She made her way through a beautiful crystal maze until she came upon a chamber with a bed, assorted food, gallons of water, and other random trinkets lining the room. After throwing her own backpack full of supplies onto the bed, she put ear buds into her head and began to rock her head to some heavy metal, or what ever bad girls be listenin to nowadays. Going through her plunder she found multiple bottles of water, canned food, a dirty magazine with pages seemingly glued together, a can opener, and a bible.

"Guh, those idiots barely had anything." she sighed.

"Idiots, huh?" a voice snuck up on her from behind.

She pulled her ear buds out and turned around to meet the intruders, reaching for her revolver in her jeans and holding her I-Glove out in front of her. Gutter cracked his whip into the air beside him and pressed a button on the handle of his weapon, covering the metallic whip in electricity. Avezerix played with the woman's revolver in her hands.

"Looking for this?" he said with a large smile on his face.

The two were spread out, too far from each other to be caught in a single force field. The woman simply sighed and put her hands behind her head.

"Alright you win. Take your shit back, I didn't want it anyways." she bluntly stated.

Gutter locked eyes with his target. "Who are you, and why are you in a dangerous place like this?"

"The name's Nunya. Nunya Damn Business. I'm here because fuck you, that's why." she responded.

The man cracked his whip once more, displayed the surge of electricity. The woman began to sweat a little.

She sighed. "Alright alright… fuck. People call me FishSlayer. I'm here because that damn dragon abandoned it a few months ago, and its' been empty ever since. I felt like it would be a good place to call home, you know?"

Avezerix chimed in. "Empty huh? And why the hell do people call you FishSlayer?"

Laughing, she responded. "Because I pick on small Fish like you two mother fuckers."

* * *

You guys are so demanding of me, gawd! Well here it is, and I swapped my "Alluring Skull" invasion imposed upon me by Souffle outa the way. Challenge completed, yah boy! I wanna thank you all for your continued support, as always, and I want to thank my fellow authors for letting me use personas of them in the story itself. Sorry that updates don't come out often, I've been really busy juggling free time with work and school. This chapter in particular took a while to write, as it went from 6k words to 12k to 8k down to 7k. I do a lot of editing but if I missed anything, please feel free to let me know in a PM!


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